Voyeur

by Candace Wondrak

She laughed. “You saw the big black doors behind the stage, didn’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, there’s a party room back there, reserved for our most high-paying customer. All rules are off back there.” Crystal’s blue eyes twinkled in the fluorescent light. “When Roman tells you to do something, you don’t say no.”

  Roman? What kind of a name was Roman?

  “He’s usually here on Friday nights,” she went on. “I wonder what’s holding him up?”

  Hmm. I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of that or not. So, some rich guy came to the Dollhouse so much, he had his own room where he could basically have sex with any of the workers?

  I knew what I should think: it was wrong, illegal, all that stuff. And yet, as I stood there, counting down the minutes until our short break was over, I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d do, if this Roman guy approached me to go fuck him in the back.

  As much as I hated to admit it, I’d only been with Bryan. It wasn’t that I didn’t like sex—I loved it, when it was done right—I was just, you know, faithful. Fuck that. Fuck relationships. Fuck everything.

  We went back inside, and the night wore on.

  An older gentleman got handsy with me after I brought him his beer. Crystal stood back and watched, letting me take the lead. “You’re new here, ain’t cha?” he asked, grinning as he reached for me.

  I could pull back; the man didn’t move that fast. I’d put him in his late fifties, maybe. But I didn’t; I stood there, let him run his hand on the curve of my ass as I said, “I am.”

  “I could tell,” he said, eyeing me up like a piece of meat. “I’d remember that pink hair… and that tattoo. Why don’t you be my personal waitress for the night?”

  “It’s my first night,” I told him. “I have other tables to take care of.” That hand was still on my ass, still rubbing small circles on my left cheek, like he’d already decided I belonged to him.

  Right. A little old for me, sorry.

  After finally escaping his hold, I informed Crystal, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

  The bathroom was only a single stall for the women’s; the men’s was bigger, from what I could see. Probably because there were never many women here, save for us workers. When the door closed behind me, I flicked the lock. I moved before the sink, leaning both hands on it. The small restroom was clean enough; I did not envy the person whose job it was to clean the men’s. I bet there was piss everywhere, maybe even some crusty jizz.

  The front pads of my feet hurt from the heels, but I kept them on as I met my reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at me was hardly recognizable. The hair, the tattoos… I bet if my parents walked by me on the street, they wouldn’t recognize me.

  As if my parents would ever stoop to walking on a sidewalk, but you get my drift.

  My eyes were a light blue. I always thought they were pretty. Hell, I always thought all of me was pretty. I had the long legs that went on for days, the flat stomach a lot of girls dreamed about, the perfect round tits that were big enough a man could hold them in his hands but not big enough to spill out. My lips were full, my nose small and dainty.

  Even with the pink hair and tattoos, I looked like an imposter. A girl trying to be someone she wasn’t, a stranger to herself.

  But what good was the old me? What good did the old Zoey do for me? All she had was money and a boyfriend who fucked her baby sister behind her back. She had nothing. The old Zoey, I decided, was dead. This job, this place, it was me starting new. A rebirth, me being someone else.

  I could do this. I could live on my own and be alone, hook up with anyone I wanted. Go home with anyone I wanted.

  It was sad, but I had a really terrible thought then: so what if I ended up dead by going home with a stranger? So what? The world would still turn, and the people in it would still be fuck-ups. I didn’t have a death wish, but I could see how it might be enticing to some, the finality of it all, the warm blackness of the end.

  I couldn’t say how long I stood there, losing myself in my thoughts, but it was a while. Longer than a pee break should be. I needed to pull myself together, act normal, not let the dark thoughts in my head ruin this job for me; I needed the money too much. So, eventually I did the only thing I could: I pushed off the sink and went to the toilet, taking care of business.

  Once my hands were washed and I wiped them off, I stepped out, into the dark, sexy world that was the Dollhouse.

  Still didn’t know why it was called that. Maybe whoever named it expected its workers to be like dolls for the male patrons? Who the hell knew.

  I headed to the bar, searching for Crystal. I saw a blonde head here or there, but not hers, not with her long, thick hair. I’d seen Crystal so much since I moved into my new place, I could pick her out of a crowd anywhere. Nope. A lot of scantily-clad and half-naked women, but no Crystal. The short-haired girl who’d asked me to refill table three was now dancing on the pole, very limber. Ruby, Jamie said her name was.

  My eyes spotted the black, windowless door around the stage, and I felt my stomach harden. No way… Was she back there with that Roman guy? I mean, what the hell were the odds of that? And, more importantly, was it wrong to be curious?

  No. You know what? I didn’t care if it was wrong. Cheating was wrong, and Bryan went ahead and did it anyways. Being here, working here, I’d let my inner freak flag fly and enjoy the hell out of the ride.

  I leaned against the bar counter, catching Jamie’s attention. “Where’s Crystal? I don’t see her out here.”

  Jamie didn’t look too pleased to tell me what she said next. “She went in the back with our star customer.” She rolled her eyes. “The things you can get away with if you have money… don’t get me wrong, I ain’t blaming any of the girls that go back there, but that man radiates danger to me, and I swear, sometimes he comes in with blood on his suit.”

  Okay, now I was intrigued. Who the hell was this Roman guy? A hitman? Someone in the mob or mafia?

  Were those things even real, or were they just in the movies?

  I let my gaze travel to the black door in the back of the Dollhouse, past the strobing lights and drooling men. “I’m supposed to be shadowing her,” I said, my curiosity slowly getting the better of me.

  I wanted to go back there and see it for myself.

  “Well, it’s up to you, hun, if you want to see what happens in the back. I’m sure you’d be fine shadowing one of the other girls, too.”

  That much was true, but I didn’t want to shadow anyone else. I wanted to see this Roman guy, see what the big deal was. Anyone with that much money, who may or may not come here with a bit of blood on his clothes, couldn’t be the drop-dead gorgeous type.

  Pushing off the counter, I wove through the tables, ignoring any patrons who tried to get me to refill their drinks. I stopped before the black, padded door, my hand on the knob. What if it was locked? What if I couldn’t get in? As the metal knob’s coldness seeped into my hand, I leaned in, trying to hear what was going on in the room.

  Unsurprisingly, I couldn’t, either because the room was soundproofed, or because the rest of the Dollhouse was so freaking loud.

  Walking in this room might be a mistake, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know what the hell was going on with this Roman guy, and why Crystal told me to be wary of the customers but she could go and disappear with him. All patrons of the Dollhouse weren’t the same, clearly.

  No, you know what? Whatever I was about to step into, I didn’t care.

  The hard truth was… I didn’t care about anything anymore.

  Chapter Two – Roman

  I was not a man who appreciated being late. Of course, there were always situations that were out of my control, and I did my best to handle it. Oftentimes, when things escalated, it got bloody, but luckily enough for everyone else, I was never turned off by blood.

  Blood, the way it glimmered under the light, how it could ooze out or squirt out like certain other liquids
from a body… it was something I could never get enough of.

  That said, it tended to stain my suits like a bitch.

  Carter accompanied me to the Dollhouse, as he usually did. He drove us there, as he always did. He was my right-hand man, the one who would do anything I told him to, no matter what that something was. I’d had his undying loyalty since he was fifteen, and it was nights like these that I treated both him and I to something we each enjoyed.

  He liked to fuck, and I liked to watch.

  Don’t get me wrong, I liked fucking as much as the next man, but there was something so primal, so carnal, about watching someone else do it. Hearing the moans, being able to focus on the curves of their bodies… To me, watching was just as thrilling as getting my cock wet.

  When we walked in, we were immediately greeted by Crystal, who stood near the bar. Her eyes lit up when she saw us, her tits bouncing as she moved to stand before us. If I had to choose a favorite among the workers here, she’d be it. The pinnacle of fuckable, with endless curves and tits to die for.

  She must’ve already put on a show, for her blonde hair was a bit greasy. She grinned at Carter and me, flashing her perfectly white teeth. “I was getting worried you wouldn’t make it tonight.”

  I adjusted how tight the tie around my neck was, giving her a slow smile. “I’d hate to make you worry, Crystal.” My head gestured for her to accompany Carter and me in the back.

  Crystal stood there for a few moments, looking a bit torn, but then she tagged along, as she always did. No one here ever said no to me. Why would they? I promised them a good time and a thousand dollars a night when I took them in the back.

  The room that was for my use alone was full of cushions on the wall, along with a leather couch that saw a lot of use. Facing the leather couch was a chair, though it was more like a throne—mine. It was the chair I sat in while I watched Carter fuck whichever girl we’d brought back. Some nights it was more than one. He had good stamina, I’d give him that.

  I sat in my chair, crossing my legs as I watched Crystal and Carter funnel in behind me. I gestured to the couch, not saying a single word. Silence was a virtue; something most people tended to forget nowadays. With near constant connectivity to the world, everyone thought their opinions mattered. Everyone believed their views were right.

  Those people were fucking idiots, and almost always the ones who were wrong.

  Crystal stood before Carter, licking her lips. She reached behind her back, untying the small strings that held her tits back. She took off her heels, and within another moment, she stood before Carter and me, utterly nude. Her hands worked at his belt, undoing it with the skill of someone who’d undone many belts in her lifetime.

  Carter was a tall fellow. Now in his mid-twenties, I’d had him at my side for about a decade. His brown hair was cut short on the sides, a bit longer on top. His green-eyed gaze held more intelligence than you’d initially think just by looking at him. With a quick glance in his direction, you’d think he was nothing more than a thug or a bodyguard.

  His length—an impressive eight inches—was almost fully erect by the time Crystal tugged his pants down. She sank onto her knees, wrapping a hand around its base and giving it a few pumps. Carter’s eyes were on her, but my gaze rested on the both of them. I could appreciate both her form and his.

  She looked up at him with baby doll eyes as she started sucking his tip. Carter’s eyes closed for a few moments, a groan escaping his lips as he got himself into the mood. It never took long with him; his cock was always hungry. Mouth, pussy, ass. His cock would take it all and still not have enough.

  Within a few moments, she had him deep-throated, his length curving along with her throat. Crystal had mastered the gagging reflex, not bothered by it at all. My own cock strained against the fabric of my pants, but I let it sit there, digging my nails into the armrests of the chair I was in as I watched.

  Crystal picked up speed, sucking his cock like a good girl, like an obedient girl. Like a girl who would do anything for the money.

  I didn’t hold it against her, or any of the workers here. Money made the world go round, after all. Without it, you were nothing; with it, you could rule the world, be a king of your own design. Buy what you want, who you want, and no one could stop you—after all, with all that money, you could hire the world’s best lawyers to get you out of anything.

  Me? I wasn’t the richest man alive. My wealth came from a combination of many things: my inheritance, my family, and blood. Mostly the latter.

  Carter wrapped his hand in her hair, tugging on it as he held her head hostage. He chose the speed now, fucking her mouth like it was a frontal assault, going at her with low grunts and fury I could see in his gaze. His shoulders began to shudder, his jerking becoming rougher. I knew that meant he was about to come. It would only be the first of many times tonight.

  However, before he could erupt and shoot his hot, wet seed down her throat, the door to our paradise creaked open, and an unfamiliar head stuck in.

  I held up a hand, and Carter stopped, eyes trained on the intruder. Everyone knew well enough to steer clear of the backroom while it was in use; this was my space and no one else’s, and anyone who thought they could just waltz in here like they owned the fucking place had another thing coming.

  Like a bullet.

  But my angry words never came out, because I realized the person who’d shoved their head in was a young, unfamiliar girl. A new worker, judging by the state of her mostly-bare shoulders.

  Crystal’s back was to the door, but she tried to pull her mouth off Carter’s cock to see who it was. Carter’s hand did not release her head, keeping her lips firmly wrapped around him. He looked at the intruder like he could kill her, and I knew, if I gave him the go-ahead, he would without hesitation.

  Where I come from, with what I do, loyalty was everything.

  “Sorry,” she said, dragging her eyes—a bright, almost impossibly light blue—between me and Carter. “I was just looking for Crystal. I’m supposed to be shadowing her.” The more she spoke, the more I knew she wasn’t apologetic at all.

  The hair framing her face was a hot pink, an odd choice, considering how smooth and blemish-free her face was. No other worker here had unnatural hair, causing her to stick out.

  You’d think, since she was new, she would be shocked at what she saw, but she wasn’t. She hardly blinked, and eventually those light blue eyes trained themselves on me, baiting me. Couple that with her demeanor, and I had to know more.

  My curiosity was piqued. “Then shadow her,” I offered, waiting to see what she’d do.

  To my utter delight, the girl straightened her back and walked in. Her skin was tan, and I saw a pretty hefty tattoo on her side. She wore what looked like a bra and tiny jean shorts, along with a pair of shiny black heels.

  Crystal tried to speak, but all that came from her were noises due to the fact that Carter’s cock was still in her throat.

  “Shut her up,” I told him, and though he was curious about the new girl too, he did what I told him to, resuming his face-fucking. My eyes locked with the new girl’s, and I gestured for her to stand beside me.

  She did, torn between studying me and watching Carter and Crystal.

  “What’s your name, girl?” When those eyes focused on me, I couldn’t help but hold her stare, recognizing something in their color. I’d never seen this girl before, of that I was sure, but the look in her eyes called to my mind a hollow vacantness I knew all too well. That, and a sick curiosity about what was going on less than five feet in front of us.

  “Zoey,” she whispered.

  Her real name, or a name she’d chosen for the Dollhouse specifically? I supposed it didn’t matter either way, for I found myself eager to know more about this pink-haired, hollow-eyed girl.

  She was pretty. Young, too. Just out of high school, if I had to guess. Maybe nineteen or twenty. That would make her fifteen years my junior, but age hardly mattered in these things. />
  “You may call me Roman,” I said, giving her one of my smiles. They were rare things, and I only brought them out when necessary. “If you’d like.”

  It appeared as if Zoey wanted to say something, but the hard moans of pleasure coming from Carter caused the both of us to look, witnessing his orgasm be born. His length jerked into Crystal’s throat, his cum coating her mouth. Now that he’d come once, Carter’s gaze moved to Zoey, and I knew what he was wondering.

  A new plaything? A new toy? A new prop in this game we played?

  Hmm. Perhaps, but not tonight.

  Crystal wiped the corners of her mouth, standing up, bold even though she was naked and probably dripping wet between her thighs. “Zoey—” She said no more, for I held up a finger. When I moved my finger around in a circle, she said nothing, moving to the couch and bending over it, exposing her ass.

  “Tell me, Zoey.” My chest rumbled as I spoke. I felt the need to touch the girl’s tan skin, trace every line of that tattoo with my tongue. When you saw what I saw, when you did what I did, you learned to go with your gut on certain things, and right now my gut was telling me that I liked this pink-haired girl and the almost empty expression in her gaze. “Would you like to stay and watch him fuck Crystal?”

  I never invited anyone to stay, unless they were participating. For her, for whatever reason, I wished to change that unspoken rule and invite her to remain. Zoey intrigued me, and I knew soon enough she might regret ever coming into this room.

  I was not a nice man, you see. Far from it. I was dangerous, almost feral. The things I had done, the things I would do before breathing my last breath… Heaven would not be the home for me. As far as I was concerned, Hell was where all the fun was had, anyway.

  “I think I should ask you if you want me to stay,” Zoey spoke slowly, frowning slightly at me. “You seem to be the king of this roost.”

  The king. Yes, I supposed that was me, especially here. I always got my way, and Zoey, though I’d just met her, knew this. That, or perhaps she simply wanted me to tell her what to do.